Red Queen
by Merios
Summary: An original short story. A psychological thriller revolving around the conspiracy of Umbrella Corporation. The story of an amnesia-struck scientist waking up in a zombie apocalypse, the only hope for truth lies within the amnesia struck mind of his.
1. Chapter 1

**I**

A man lay on the cold, metal floor of a long, silver hallway. Large glass tanks line the hallway, giving it a post-modern macabre look. The hallway seemed to go on for miles, but there was a left turn at the end. The prospect of salvation beyond that corner is nigh incredibly unfeasible- this facility is not made to be a vacation spot. In the darkness that lay beyond the curiously still body of the man, there was a solitary pulsing red bead of light that seemed almost outcast, suspended in the mid-air as if hoisted by transparent lanyards. The ambiances were nerve-wracking and almost bare enough to induce goose bumps. The crimson-hued fluid that was carefully contained within the large panes of glass that would serve as tanks for aquatics was dense enough to leave almost no bubbles breaking the surface.

The mans' head was resting on his right forearm, the right side of the male's face pushed into the fabric of his white, cotton sleeve. These legs were pressed together haphazardly, thrown over each other, rippling the once-pressed khaki-colored dress pants. The footprints that were slowly disappearing in the puddle of blood that was casually pooling around the base of his skull didn't not belong to his own black and white sneakers. Strangely, the pearl-white lab coat lab coat that adorned the man's body did not have a single drop of taint on it; the man's white polyester turtleneck wasn't so lucky and acquired-as well as absorbed- quite a bit of the crimson fluid on the torso area. The silver crucifix that hung around his neck lay still and lifeless on the metal floor, ever so effervescent in the bright light from above.

The male, who seemed apparently wounded, was around 35 years old, judging by the wrinkles sculpted on his plain, unassuming face. The man wasn't law enforcement, ad if one might judge by his garb- he was a scientist. The logo that was printed perfectly to the security card hanging from the man's left breast belonged to Umbrella Corporation. The hair on his face or lack thereof, is almost nonexistent- peculiar for a man of his age. Obviously, this man was not some form of mad scientist or a threat to society. There were no scorch marks laden his clothes or head, and there was virtually no evidence of a struggle.

The dream faded, and the indignant adhesive that subdued the man's eyelids subsided, allowing them to slowly flutter open. The jade green color of the man's irises quickly enlarged, dilating his pupils to a minuscule size as the cruel, unforgiving fluorescent lighting hit him like a tank. His eyes quickly closed and reopened, focusing in on the environment. It was a pleasant, plan, and uncharismatic environment to wake up in; visually, but, like they say, beauty is only skin deep. It seemed like the atmosphere was heavy, and it was just then when the silence came to his attention- it was deafening. The uneasy silence was an early warning sign that something was amiss; it's never this quiet.

His legs were heavy, and the imagined weight on his shoulder didn't assist him in moving. Nevertheless, his body moved on command, lifting itself up. He stood, the lab coat falling to his ankles and his crucifix settling itself on his torso. He moved his right hand to the wall, leaning on it for support until he regained composure. His eyebrows furrowed and he gave his head one last shake as he pushed away from the wall. One after another, his feet began to shuffle forward slowly; his eyes were open, taking in the view.

_Where am I?_


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

The man's skin glistened with perspiration, the rapid eye movements signified confusion and the whirlwind of unidentified and erroneous thoughts that swam through his mind like a school of sharks in a clouded fish tank dotted with mines set to explode if the wrong shark; or thought; were to bump into them. The blur that was evident as he shambled forward happened to be nothing more than the accelerated visions of his semi-cognizant mind attempting to make sense of such a rapid flow of information.

This... Unfortunate side-effect of rapid arousal inadvertently causes dizziness which absolutely corrupts any state of equilibrium that had been recovered from such an extensive dormant period; he fell. The knees hit first, sending a shock wave of pain slithering up his thighs and into his torso and further above toward the brain which then correctly made his teeth clench- oh the complicities of the normal everyday reactions to basic stimuli. A small chuckled escaped his lips as he slid his left hand to the wall, palm outward to correct his stance and recover his balance.  
He used momentum to push himself to his feet and set his eyes forward, now focusing all his efforts into not falling rather than moving forward; smart idea.

What his hand thought was a wall- and what his brain concluded through touch was a wall, was not in fact a wall but rather glass of a lukewarm temperature which could have easily masqueraded as a steel structure. The crimson fluid within made no movement as his hand beat against it slowly, moving his body inch by inch down the wall, resting his body weight solely on his left hand to keep him upright as he ventured further down the depressing hall that he previously woke up in.

At once, the dizziness faded and consciousness flooded into his cranium and he was upright, standing on his own in a dark hall way within seconds. He felt a sense of accomplishment wash over him which gave him a hearty helping of confidence; enough to will him further down the hall. Although, his confidence wasn't all fabricated from reality- most of it, well, a pretty good amount of it was manifested from curiosity and revealed itself quite completely through the man's actions. As he walked slowly and cautiously, a thought filled his mind; such a dangerous thought which, strangely, went unanswered until this second.

_Who am I?_

The blow to the head quite obviously erased an un healthy portion of his memory and until now, never revealed itself in a realistic way. The man's right hand slowly hovered up and clasped his chest and more importantly, what was on his chest. Those bony, calloused fingers bent around a white and silver card attached to a clip which was nestled deep within his breast pocket. His hand reached forward away from his chest, palm downward, as the material holding the card in place stretched outward, mimicking the movements of his hands so well. A single bead of sweat zigzagged down his wrinkled forehead during the same time that his trembling hand turned over to reveal the card clenched within his fingers.

**Louis Abbot  
Research and Development  
3rd Level Clearance**


	3. Chapter 3

**II**

A disorientating bewilderment struck him like a truck- he was a scientist? At the moment, there wasn't much to think about other than trying to mull the situation over and over again in his mind. He felt witless in his current state of mind; barely being able to stand on his own two feet and even worse- attempting to remember his own name. Understanding where he was and what the date currently is seems like a pipe dream, but this dream is meant to come to fruition- almost like a premonition of things to come very soon. His eyes wandered down the hall and his body stood locked in place; it was queer, really, seeing a grown man with his eyes wild and curious like a toddler. Within moments, Louis snapped out of his trance and shook his head a little, getting a small jolt of pain nailing him in the left temple and taking it like a trooper. His eyes caught glance of his own clothing finally, and Louis noticed he was wearing a lab coat- sounds about right, seeing as his ID card stated he was a researcher.

Without a "Dr." in front of his name, noticing he was anyone of use was absurd. Things were clicking together, and he was beginning to understand more about what this scenario is all about. Louis willed his feet to move, and they did so. He willed his hands to lock out in front of him, to feel the area in front of him before his body made contact with anything unsatisfactory; they followed immediately. He willed his hear t to cease beating so rapidly, but that would appear to have been more difficult as the heart was a bit more stubborn than his more accommodating extremities. At once, the lights flickered to life- one by one, the fluorescent tubes were set ablaze by a fiery light. Such an intense change of lighting swelled his pupils to more than twice their size, dilating them fully. Louis quickly lifted his right forearm to his face and covered his eyes as the bright lights seemed to intensify as the seconds ticked away.

The initial shock phase was over, and his eyes were beginning to adjust. He dropped his right arm down back to his side and exhaled a rough, jagged breath. Now that the environment was now coated in a beautiful white contrast, he could finally make out what room he was in. The hallway he was standing in was at least 30 yards long and at least 5 yards wide. Lining the walls for a distance were glass "cages", or what looked like large vertical fish tanks with chicken wire coating from within. Fear hadn't really had a chance to breed within his mind, but now it has an opportunity to ignite. Curiosity filled his mind, but for some reason he was terrified of these tanks. Deep down, his body and mind realized what these were and aptly defended the body with anxiety- yet, Louis' conscience did not quite catch up and he had no idea why his heart was about to explode with adrenaline.

Foot by foot, his feet pounded against the hard marble, sprinting to the end of the hallway. There was a sharp left turn and a locked door with an electric keypad on the right side of the frame (which is inconspicuously blinking red). He skidded to a halt in front of the door and, without even glancing around the corner, made a break for the steel entranceway. His body met the cold steel harshly, sending a wave of pain wriggling down his side and right shoulder, making him recoil a foot or two back, clutching his shoulder gently. His eyes darted about until they finally lay on the key pad.  
Louis stepped over to the electronic locking device and looked it over closely. It had a basic 0-9 key pad as well as a keycard swipe indentation on the right-hand side with the picture of a hawk etched beside it. His right hand fingers danced over the keys, pressing random combinations. He whimpered each time the machine beeped disapprovingly - he gave up after the third try. He sighed a breath of defeat and finally glanced to his left, turning his body to meet his eyes trajectory. The hallway that was before him was as bare as the last- with the exception of a single unlocked heavy steel door with a large Umbrella logo painted onto the ground right outside the entrance. His mind was telling his body to move yet his body was paralyzed with the fear of the unknown. With a hard swallow, he began walking towards the open door way.

As he neared the door way, he stopped and flattened up against the cold, white material that made up the wall beside. Louis inched towards the door frame and cautiously peeked his head around the corner and into the room. It looked like an office- but there was a closed door in the back with a red blinking key pad. His eyes returned to the environment- there was a single mahogany desk in the center of the room, papers were strewn about and there was a large red stain on the eastern wall, just above a set of knocked-over cushioned chairs. The chair behind the desk was knocked over and torn neatly in two; the head rest lying haphazardly across the room, near the locked door. A pair of legs stuck out of the back of the desk; female, apparently, known by the stilettos squishing down the flabby skin around the ankles.  
He stepped into the room cautiously, now having a good look of his surroundings; the western side of the room was bare, only a bookcase and a blank wall lie to his left. On his right, however, the crimson stain on the wall seemed to have a strange white set of markings streaked into it- like a canvas. At the moment, though, he was more focused on the body behind the desk.

_Oh God, please don't let her be dead…_

He inched forward until his knees banged against the wood of the front of the desk. He peered over the desk, looking over the woman. She was dressed in a plain, unassuming black pant suit with bright blonde hair curled above her head in a ball. Her mouth was covered in a red liquid and there was a neat puddle forming around her neck. The woman's left hand was bloody, but there were no signs of damage to the wrist, arm, or fingers. Louis clapped his right hand over his mouth and nose and turned away, his stomaching churning. He quickly jogged a few feet towards the door and grabbed a knocked-over plastic waste basket. He held it up to his face and heaved, a small stream of vomit exploded from his mouth into the empty trash can.

He stumbled back a few feet and caught himself on the desk, setting the waste basket down and wiping his mouth with his sleeve, dying the cloth a light greenish-yellow. He inched back over to the body and winced, leaning over and looking around. Clutched in her right hand was what looked like a key card- it had a large picture of a hawk printed on one side with a small black magnetic strip beneath the printed picture and the words "Umbrella Corp". He bent down and turned his head as he grasped her cold, dry hand. He attempted to pull the card away, but the grip was just far too tight. He sighed and closed his eyes and, just then, remembered the small picture of a hawk etched into the key pad on the way in. That was then he made the connection and also made his mind. His hands reached for the key pad- his left on the pad and his right on the woman's hand. With a quick movement, he pulled the card out and tweaked the finger back beyond elasticity, a sickening crack echoing throughout the room.  
He stood up, holding the card and looking it over in his hand, turning it over and examining the printed material. A hawk- just like the key pad he saw earlier.

_Would this fit the lock?_

As he began to walk out, his eyes caught the stain once more and he stopped. Backpedaling a few feet, Louis switched hands with the key card and let it rest in his left hand which swayed on his side slowly. He approached the wide streak of blood on the wall and examined the white lines marked into it. At first, it didn't seem too out of place, but once he stared at it for a moment, logic and intelligence kicked in. The lines began to become so significant and he began reading them from left to right.

_745_

The last number was illegible, but it was definitely a single digit. He turned around and looked about the room until his eyes rest on a red pen and a small stack of papers. He walked a few steps and grabbed the pen with his right hand and rested his elbow on the desk that the paper stack lay on. He popped off the lid to the pen with his mouth and began to jot down the numbers. He finished and stuffed the uncapped pen within his breast pocket and ripped off the small sliver of paper he wrote the numbers down on. He slid the sliver of paper into his left pants pocket and gave the room one last once-over before stepping out of the door way and heading down the hall to the previous key pad. He leaned towards it, resting his head on the wall above it, sweat beginning to wet the tips of his spiked hair, making a few hang over his forehead. He moved his left hand up and switched hands with the key card, planting the card into the top of the strip and closing his eyes tight, silently moving his lips in a silent prayer as he slid the card down the indention.

A satisfying beep, a solid green light, and the whoosh of an metal door sliding open alerted him to his success.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Louis lifted his head up and his eyes fluttered open to reveal the satisfying sight of the door quickly ascending into its frame. He pushed away from the door and lifted the key card up in his right hand and looked over it one last time before he slid it into his right back pocket. What lay beyond the door? His mind attempted to fathom what horrid evils lay dormant within the depths of the metallic room before him. He closed his eyes briefly and reopened them with a heavy exhale; his feet moved before even his mind did and he soon realized he was walking into the room. Louis took two steps in and scanned the room, hoping to find solace in such an ill-fated designer's nightmare. The noxious smell of Halon wafted into his nostrils, yet it wasn't enough to cause unconsciousness- such a chemical might have been used as a self-defense mechanism within the facility, many companies of this age have fail safes such as this company may have.

The room was a scientific laboratory- five long, white desks dot the room with a variety of glass beakers and phials of unknown liquids. The majority of this room looked untouched as if the workers were brought into the Rapture. He walked another few feet in, his eyes darting around the room, examining things that may or may not be of interest or threat. Louis stopped at the closest lab table to him, his hands drifting from his sides and planting themselves on the table as he breathed heavily; it was difficult to get a lung full of oxygen in the room, and he was showing signs of distress. He closed his eyes and shook his head a few times before opening his dark green orbs once more, resting his eyes on the table. As he turned his head to the right, something caught his eye- a single shattered beaker lying on the ground near one of the further lab tables from him.

Louis shoved his body away from the table and began taking cautious steps towards the beaker- the area behind and beneath the lab table was hidden from view where he was, and there was a few thoughts in his mind that gave him uneasy ideas as to what may or may not reside below the table. He neared the edge of the desk and pressed up against it, inching to the side and quickly bending down to peek behind and below it. He straightened back up and winced his eyes. Louis slowly stepped a few feet forward and then turned back towards the table, putting his right hand over his mouth and nose and taking two steps towards the beaker which was behind the table, next to the disemboweled body of a late male scientist. On the beaker, there was a specific element: Cl 17.

_Why would they be working with Chlorine?_

Louis shook his head and his eyes inadvertently darted to the man lying nearby. His torso seemed to be ripped open and his entrails lie in an indiscernible mass of steaming gore on either sides of his body revealing that he was in a standing position when the damage was done.

_Did he... Do this to himself?_

He coughed a little- the gas was getting to him. He stood up quickly and brought his left hand up and pulled the left-hand collar of his lab coat over his nose and mouth. He looked about the room one more time, looking around for any escape routes- anywhere to go in order to leave this wretched room other than the entrance. He stepped a few steps to the left to get a better look at the room, finally noticing a metallic door in the back. Though, there was a series of small dents in the door from the inside, as if something was imprisoned in this room and attempted to get out- violently. Louis had opened the only door out of this room, which means whatever was in here is still within. His eyes widened as the realization that his life could be in danger hit him. He quickly backpedaled a few feet, stumbling over the edge of a table and turning around to the entrance of the room. He willed himself just a bit further and out of the room, fear rising inside of him.

He quickly spun around the corner and pulled out the keycard from his pocket. His hands tremored as he attempted to slide the card down the reader; he missed a good four times before the card finally slid down correctly, closing the door with another whoosh. The Halon content of the hallway decreased and he could finally breathe in a fresh amount of oxygen. He sighed and slid a few feet to the side of the keycard, leaning against the wall. Louis let out a jagged breath of air and slid down to the ground, sitting down and bending his knees up to his chest. He rested his chin on the gap between his knees.

_What went on in here?_

A loud crash echoed throughout the hallway- it came from the first room he went into. His eyes widened and he quickly shot up to a standing position. He cautiously took a few steps down the hallway, forward, towards the first door he went into. He quickly jogged to the door frame and flattened up against the wall beside it, mimicking his earlier movements and leaned over, looking inside. The room was empty. He turned the corner and walked inside the room, taking a few steps and stopping in the center. He remembered the woman from earlier, lying on the ground behind the desk. He eyed the room and suddenly something clicked in his mind- the stilettos. He leaned to his right to peek towards the desk, behind it; no stilettos. Louis took four cautious steps to the desk and then quickly stepped around it, standing at the edge, looking down at where the dead woman previously was. The blood stain was still there, but it seems her body wasn't.

_Did someone move her?_

The fear intensified within him and he quickly spun around, looking around the room. He looked back to the entrance and saw the woman sitting against the wall, her legs out in front of her and her head down and to the right side. He quickly jogged to her and knelt down in front of her, putting his hands on her shoulder.

**"Ma'am, are you alright?"**

He looked over her and noticed a large chunk missing out of her exposed neck on her left side. He put his right hand under her chin and lifted her head up. As her hair parted and her head moved up, Louis looked into her eyes- they were heavily glazed over with a light grey coat. He let her head drop and he gasped, pulling back. Louis made a strange click with his tongue when he noticed that the blood over her neck wound was congealed; almost like a light paste.

_That only happens after you're…_

The woman lifted her head, looked into his eyes and opened her mouth wide- four of her teeth were missing and the rest were jagged and sharp; her skin was pale as a ghost and the once-pretty face was now laden with small pock marks and missing skin. The woman let out a guttural scream and launched herself at Louis, toppling him over onto his back as she straddled his chest. She began to violently claw at him and snap her head down and attempt to bite him. Louis immediately grabbed both her arms and hold her back, tilting his own head to the side and pressing it against the ground, furiously trying to confine her, to stop her from touching him.

**"Get OFF me!"**

He gave her one last shove and pushed her to the side, letting her roll a few times before stopping at one of the decorative plush seats. He quickly pulled himself backwards and he hit the desk with his left elbow. He quickly pulled himself to his feet with the aid of the desk and watched as she pulled herself to her feet and lunged at him. He quickly slid away, letting her stumble over. He stepped back to the door and looked at the woman as she stood in front of the desk, growling and seething.

**"Why are you attacking me?! Just stay still, you're hurt!"**

The woman launched herself at Louis, giving out a loud scream. Louis stepped once towards her and threw out his right shoulder, shoving her back. He lifted up his fists as she began to regain composure and charge at him again.

**"I don't want to hurt you!"**

Once again, like clockwork, she lunged at him again, both arms out towards him. He hesitated, and a worried look on his face quickly appeared. He lowered his eyebrows and swung out his right fist, connecting with the left side of her jaw, sending her stumbling back a few feet. There was a small trash can behind her, which was in front of the desk, which her right foot backpedaled into, slipping over it and falling backwards onto the desk and more importantly, into a desk spike which already had a few pieces of paper on it. The back of the woman's head violently slammed on the tip of the spike, impeding the rest of the 12-inch metallic paper holder into her skull. Louis didn't even realize what happened until he noticed the woman wasn't moving anymore.

He cautiously took a few steps towards her, his mind wracked with worry that she might get up again. He moved to the left of her and noticed that the desk spike had disappeared into her skull. He coughed and covered up his mouth with his right hand. A single tear slid down his left eye and cheek as he stepped back and flattened up against the wall with the red stain on it.

**"Wh-What have… What have I done?"**


End file.
